Underneath
by CycloneT
Summary: Alex makes a discovery and isn't pleased. [GorenEames]


Title: Underneath  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Alex makes a discovery and isn't pleased.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. No matter how much I say, 'pretty please,' Dick Wolf just won't give them up.   
  
A/N: Thanks to Super Traci for beta'ing. Wait…ignore the 'super' part. Her ego doesn't need any more encouragement. :P  
  
~x~  
  
"Damn!" Alex swore as the pen ran out of ink. "Goren, do you have any more pens?"  
  
"Yeah," he called from the kitchen. "In the top drawer. Just ignore any reading material that you might find in there."  
  
She smiled and rummaged through the drawer, pulling out some well-thumbed men's magazines to get to the junk underneath, and finally found what she was looking for.  
  
"Any problems?" Bobby asked as he returned to the lounge room with two steaming mugs of coffee. He placed them on the table amongst all the open folders and sat beside her on the couch.  
  
"Nope. But I am impressed with the size of your reading collection."  
  
"I get them for the articles," he rationalized with a shrug.  
  
She nodded her head knowingly. "Uh huh. Sure you do."  
  
"No, really," he protested.  
  
"Goren, I'm not buying it, so don't even bother wasting your breath."   
  
"But –"  
  
"Where's the Solomon file?" she asked, bringing the conversation back to a work related topic.  
  
He gestured towards a stack of folders beside the table. "You know, some of the articles in those magazines are very interesting."  
  
Alex snorted. "Once you get past all the naked women, I bet they are."  
  
"Once I get past. . ." he repeated softly, shaking his head in amusement. "You're doing me a grave injustice, Eames."   
  
"You'll live. What about the LeVakis file? Why isn't that here?"  
  
Goren glanced around the room and rose from the couch. "I was going over it on the treadmill this morning. I'll be right back," he explained as he exited the room.  
  
Alex took a sip of her coffee and re-read over the details of the Solomon case as she waited for him to return.   
  
"You're automatically assuming that I buy them just for the nudity content," he said as he came back and passed her a manila folder.   
  
"Goren, please – give it up already." She sighed as she tried the pen and discovered it was inkless. She opened the drawer again and dumped the magazines on the floor as she searched for another pen. Her eyes caught sight of a photograph and, curious, she picked it up. "You're never going to convince me that you . . ."  
  
"That I what?" Bobby prompted, enjoying their argument.   
  
She turned to him with her eyes flashing. "Is this some sort of joke?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Where did you get it?" she demanded.  
  
"Get what?"  
  
"This," she said, and thrust the photo at him.  
  
He looked down at it and his stomach lurched. "It's not what you think," he tried to explain. "A buddy of mine came across it and gave it to me."  
  
"A buddy of yours? Thought you'd enjoy it, did he?"  
  
"No, Alex, listen –"  
  
"I swear, Goren, if this turns up on any notice boards or is passed around in any huddled schoolboy circles, I am going to make you sorry that you were ever born."  
  
"It won't. Look –"  
  
"How many other people have seen this?"  
  
"No one. . .I mean, none. I'm the only one who –"  
  
"You're the only one who gets his rocks off by looking at it? I suppose I should be thankful for that, at least."  
  
"I don't 'get my rocks off' at all. I like looking at it because –"  
  
"Because you're a sleazy scumbag, I got it. God, you know what makes this so bad? Because in my stupidity I expected more of you."  
  
"If you would calm down and listen to me I could explain everything."  
  
"I think it's pretty self-explanatory, don't you?"  
  
"No, I don't. But I do think that your willingness to believe the worst of me speaks volumes."  
  
Alex stood up in disgust. "I'm leaving. And I'm taking this with me."  
  
Bobby also stood and moved into her path and forced her to stop. "That's my property," he said firmly. "It's staying with me."   
  
"You really don't want to fight me on this, Goren."  
  
"You're right, I don't. But since you won't listen to me I'm going to have to."  
  
"Get out of my way," she spat.  
  
"No."  
  
"I'm warning you."  
  
"Alex, please. It's only a photo. What's the harm in letting me keep it?"  
  
"Are you serious? I don't want you, or anyone else for that matter, to perceive me as . . .that! It's hard enough in this job for a woman to project an image of professionalism and capability, and that photo undermines everything that I work for."  
  
"I honestly don't know what you're referring too," Bobby said, puzzled. "You were obviously undercover when this was taken. And even if you weren't . . ." he remembered the expanse of creamy skin and exposed cleavage and shrugged, "you've definitely got nothing to be ashamed of."  
  
"Thank you so much for your approval. I'm glad to know that you find nothing shameful in me dressed up as a cheap hooker. What really did it for you, Goren? Was it the leather? The boots? The skirt I was almost wearing? Or was it the tarty make up?"  
  
"What 'did it for me' had nothing to do with your get-up. Are you ready to listen to what drew me to this photo? It wasn't all that skin you were flashing. It wasn't the leather, it wasn't the halter-top, and it wasn't even the six-inch boots. It was your smile. Pure and simple – have you even noticed that you're smiling in this picture?"  
  
Alex looked down to find that she was, indeed, smiling.  
  
"It's a genuine smile Alex, and it's beautiful. That's why I keep it."   
  
"Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to say.  
  
"Kinda makes you sorry you called me a 'sleazy scumbag' now, doesn't it?"  
  
"Don't push it," she warned, but the heat had left her voice.  
  
"Can I have it back?"  
  
After a slight hesitation she handed it to him, and walked back over to the couch. "So, where were we?" she asked casually.  
  
"Looking for discrepancies in the LeVakis and Solomon cases," he said, and slipped the photo back into the drawer where it belonged.  
  
Within easy reach whenever he needed to see her smile.  
  
End. 


End file.
